A '-r 



THE 



POETRY OF OBSERVATION, 



^att .Seconlr; 



AND OTHER POEMS. 



BY 



WILLIAM ASBURY KENYON, 

n 

A MASSACHUSETTS MECHANIC. 



" If we, who are absorbed by our homes, our interests, our love, only 
knew the wealth which is revealed to us at this present moment, we should 
possess, in mere observation alone, a perpetually flowing spring of perpetually 
vigorous life-enjoyment." — jPeederika Bremer. 



BOSTON: 

WM. CROSBY AND H. P. NICHOLS, 
111, WASHmGTON Street. 

1853. 






BOSTON: 
PRINTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON, 

22, School Street. 






DEDICATION. 



This little volume, like its preceding counterpart, is respect- 
fully dedicated to the laboring population of New England, by 
one of tbeir own number. If Ms fellows in industry shall 
receive herewith any new assm^ance that theirs is the post of 
honor, of nobility, and of happiness, the convictions of the 
humble writer will not have been entertained in vain, nor will 
Ms present labor be mthout reward. May God bless them 
all, strengthening and encouraging them to fulfil heroically 
the duties of their several spheres; so that they may enjoy, 
as fearlessly, the self- approving honors of a consciousness of 
right. 

The fact of such illustrious and venerable names having 
been given to favor the publication of tMs second part of a 
collection of poetical essays by an humble artisan, proves the 
sympathy existing between even the loftiest and the lowliest 
in tMs favored community ; and, if some of the author's elder 
brothers in poesy have thus also found it pleasurable to reach 
down the hand to one who would not rashly attempt the level 
of their brightness, it is yet earnestly hoped they may not see 
cause to regret their condescension. 

HiNGHAM, Sept. 1, 1853. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 
Poetry of Observation, Part Second ... 1 

The Fount of Unfaithfulness . . . . .42 

Dream of an Operative 51 

A Song of Labor 58 

Dreams while at Work 60 

Wayside Instruction 65 

Stanzas on the Death of the Rev. Edward W. 

Champlin 68 

Elegiac Stanzas on the Death of "an Amiable Woman 

WHO DIED AT HiNGHAM .70 

America to Kossuth and his Comrades ... 72 

Farewell . . . '74 

Thanksgiving Hymn 76 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



Page 
The Vale of Years . . . . . . .78 

Simplicity, a Lesson of Life 81 

Little Johnny's Song of Gladness .... 84 

Awakening Youth 87 

The Broken Pitcher 88 

Song of the Waves 92 

Stanzas sent to my Brother and his Lady, upon 

HEARING OF THEIR LOSS OF AN AmIABLE SoN . 95 

My Sister 97 

"Woman 100 

Epithalamium 101 

Lamentation of Petrarch 103 

A Glimpse at Grief . . . . . . 104 



POETHY OF OBSERVATION. 

PART II. 



/ 



THE 



POETRY OF OBSERVATION. 



PART II. 



Again with fancy let us forth to taste 
Those pleasures of the poor, — the Beautiful 
In the wide fields of nature, and the Grand ; 
The gentle and the noble in mankind. 

Come ! like the huntsman, let us timely wake. 
To search for excellence in sight and sound; 
All that delights or touch or smell or sense 
Of human sympathy. Let us inspect 
Our little own estate; and see, ourselves, 
Wide open thrown these portals of the soul : 
Lest, save the clamorous and rude, few there 
Admittance gain ; lest servants we have wronged 

1 



2 POETKY OF OBSEKYATION. 

(Our enemies by loose indulgence made), 
Even the sweet messengers of good to us 
Shut out. 

But lo ! here from this portico 
What beauty spreads ! Below us, placidly. 
Enchased with bossy woods, the lakelet lies ; 
Reflecting yon white mansion and the mill, 
And cattle on the farther grassy bank. 
Gleams the far bay, with isles thick studded o'er ; 
Spreads wide, with its white canvas-dots, the sea. 
Beyond yon dim gray, where thrive towns unseen. 
Faintly traced mountains range ; the blue hills here ; 
And here, behind, abruptly all cut off. 
And in these bounds before us, thickly pent. 
Are hills and villages with many a spire. 
And woods and waters, — an enchanting scene. 
Shadowy dim that shaft of glory stands. 
Tall by the pyramid-like city's pile ; 
Our scattered village here, 'twixt hill and hill. 
Plain below plain, clear sloping to the sea. 

Many, there dwelling, hither love to look, 
Where the fair dome, above the woody steep, 
Smiles from the verge of this high spread plateau. 



PART second; 

And sometimes for a closer view they come ; 
Since he who built the palace it has made 
With polished walls, and sculpture of ripe taste ; 
Rich with wrought drapery, of blending hues, 
And vastest mirrors ; and its halls are filled 
"With gems of statuary, paintings, prints, — 
Maturest products of artistic skill ; 
With divers cabinets of things most rare ; 
Vases antique, and shells from distanj; shores ; 
And poets' volumes, luminous with gold, 
Ranging from fabled eras until now. 
And round it he has planted every shrub 
And flower for fragrance or for splendor prized, 
Native, exotic, or by culture found ; 
With graperies, and orchards of all fruit. 
Where blithest birds flit round, or sit and sing ; 
And squirrels, playful, freely leap and run. 
Yet well they know this aflluence of grace 
Would ne'er the nymph Enjoyment win its lord, 
If his hard heart were proud, and pent in sel^ 
And mere possession his chief conscious good. 
Ah, no ! the humblest visitant hath more, 
Who comes but once, yet comes to look with love. 
For, if he valued only wealth and fame, 
His birds and squirrels would be shy of him ; 



4 POETRT OF OESERYATION. 

His pictures and his poets' lines would pall ; 

And even the little flowers would hide their eyes, 

Or look reproval up in his stern face ; 

And all the value of his costly home 

Would rest in other minds. But he thanks Heaven 

That he was made no churl ; that he can love 

All loveliness, all virtue, for itself; 

That from each blossom entering his thought, 

He can educe instruction with delight ; 

And in the ash, as in the rose, admire 

The graceful order of each petal's fold. 

Swelling to part its bud's protecting greaves, 

That it may give its fragrance to the air, 

And to the light its softly blending hues, — 

Perfecting thus the fabric of the plant. 

As erst it had lain latent in the seed. 

Like some ideal in a poet's brain. 

And, seeing this, he feels he, too, should strive 

To let his powers unfold ; yet wonders more 

That any may not love and learn the same. 

Hence, come we morn or eve, we find him still 
Closely regarding good so various. 
And, would some youth some work's chief merit learn. 
He hastes — with no cold critic skill — to wake 



PAET SECOND. 



The due discernment ; making each delight, 

By courtesy and kindness, greatly more. 

Each day, when evening's light repast is o'er. 

He loves, at ease in his alcoves of tomes. 

To scan the world's advancement ; through reports 

Gathered to him there, from the wide-spread earth, 

In o'erheaped tables of the passing news. 

Yet if, amidst his joys in some far clime. 

Sudden the door admits our cheerful face. 

Come for an hour of friendship, not a frown 

Hints of disturbance ; but a welcome glad 

Lays by the paper, to the sofa points. 

And makes that evening pass — oh, how light ! 

And there are greetings of less private mien. 

Readings upon the Beauteous here oft 

Assemble the selected sons of Art, 

And souls enriched by wisdom's wealth of lore ; 

For he is prized as their peculiar friend. 

Though not less loved of the unlettered poor. 

And sometimes the whole neighborhood around, 

Eich, poor, wise, ignorant, youth, age, and all, 

Are freely bid come share a season's mirth ; 

With music, dancing, and the voice of song. 

In gladness echoing through those vast halls. 

Whose far-seen brilliancy adorns the night. 



6 POETHY OF OBSEKVATION. 

And thus tlie master — by regarding all. 
Beloved of all — within his marble walls 
Finds home as happy as the humblest cot ; 
Since love there dwells, with sweet society ; 
"With converse sweet and with deportment mild, — 
True elegance, with elegance well joined. 

And-so throughout the world. Would one enjoy 
Earth's lavish good, himself must be conformed. 
If we desire to read and feel those lines. 
Harmonious, illuminated, rich. 
In the great library of God, the quick. 
Perceiving, and appreciating heart 
Must be kept humble, charitable, pure ; 
And, like a spotless mirror, give back all. 
This is the secret of enjoying here; 
This all the world of ugliness would free, — 
This "Wine" of Hafiz, our full "Well of Life." 

Such heart had Corydon, who loved his flocks, 
And piped according as their gambols gave ; 
Or sang to them in oft so gentle strains, 
That they would cease their browsing for pure joy. 
The bleating lambs had modulated notes 
For him ; and in their soft eyes he saw clear 



PART SECOND. 7 

The spark of pleasure or mild light of peace ; 
And there was not a deer that roamed the wood, 
But he could have sweet converse when they met. 

The same has Aubon, who, a gleeful child, 
Would watch the doves and ducklings round his 

door. 
Or blither robins in the shading elm ; 
With love that quickened so both eye and ear, 
That now no fowler can his prey discern 
So soon as he its plumage and its song ; — 
A love that leads him oft, with rare d'elight, 
Through distant wilds, and lone, primeval woods, 
Seeking all richer and all rarer forms ; 
That others, grateful, may at ease enjoy. 

And like was Linneus, whom coarsest grass, 
And weeds that vex the gardener, could please ; 
Who deems it pleasure to consume a life 
In pointing out for others the delights 
That close observing will reveal for all. 

And like were many, who have brought the world 
As in a closet's compass ; and have made 
The signs of speech, as agate marks, to shape 



8 POETRY OF OBSEKVATION. 

The whole earth's varied beauty, for all time, — 
Beauty embalmed in spice-like flowers of thought. 

But chief among these, tuneful Musa stands, 
The mother, nurse, and pupil of them .all, — 
Musa, who pours a flood of light on men. 
As if the world in her had other moon. 
Turning the brightness of the sun of Good 
On our still darkling homes. For she doth show 
Ten thousand shapes of beauty, light as air ; 
And, all around our grosser earth, builds up 
Another sphere, transcendently more fair, 
"Where mortals love to wander. She doth give 
To common things more loveliness than lives ; 
And oft lies dreaming, untold hours, 'mong clouds. 
Or floating between isles, at early dawn. 
Where pendant margins magically wave, ' 
While stars still sparkle in the lake's depths down ; 
Doth visit palaces of naiad queens, 
In deep sea-valleys, below reach of storms ; 
And from their unknown treasuries oft brings 
A wealth of amber, emeralds, and pearl. 
And so man's life is lovely, and allied 
To that of angels, by the fruits of care. 



PART SECOND. \ 

But gentle Musa, though she visits all, 
With partial hand her favors doth dispense ; 
And, while in crowds about her courtiers wait. 
Will oft, on some poor, timid, awe-struck youth, 
Lavish her fond caresses and rich gifts ; 
And many a precious hint in secret has 
For those who ne'er go vaunting in bad verse. 
But her chief care is to set nobly forth, 
Increase, perpetuate, and magnify. 
The higher virtues, — Friendship, Goodness, Truth ; 
And hence demands unalterable song. 

Dwelling in regions high! above the cloud. 
Sometimes in robes of purest white she comes. 
Showering the world with roses and with smiles ; 
Then, radiant with majesty, stands far, 
Holding the mirror of past centuries, 
And pointing to the wealth of times to come. 

She doth conduct in paths of shading yews. 
Where cypress, willow, poplar, larch, and fir 
Shed their mild influence above the dead ; 
About whose cherished mounds are emblem-flowers. 
With tablets telling of afflicted loves. 



10 POETRY or OBSEKYATION. 

Often slie suddenly before us brings 
Some bower or vista, where our lingering 
Seems to start up associations pure, 
Of dear departed ones, or friends afar ; 
Kindly admonishers, with whom we live 
Over and o'er again the days that were ; 
Enjoying still the treasures there laid up 
In gentle thoughts, kind words, and worthy deeds, 
One of the choicest graces earth may know. 

It is by her that youth its future paints 
In colors all so bright ; and ever hastes, 
As in soft meads of spring, from flower to flower, 
To pluck the awaiting joys (aye budding still). 
And shape resolves what manhood it shall see. 

"With endless tales, that love the patient ear, 
Age in its wonted corner sits with her ; 
Or creeps, bent, feeble, tottering along ; 
Revered for wisdom and for store of truths, 
But finding pleasures only in the past ; 
In worthy deeds, where came no thought of self. 

The same soft-hearted gives us to survey. 
From its dim fountains down, the Stream of Life ; 



PART SECOND. 11 

Noting how slowly Brotherhood has grown, 
And Manhood ripened, ere the Good of All, 
Perceived, was known the Good of every One. 

'Tis with her fabled steed we swiftly scale 
The Mayflower compact ; charter of king John ; 
And Rome's first code ; to Sinai's tablet laws, 
Where Heaven the Sire of Liberty is known. 
Then, as we see man's beauteous life increased 
By Freedom's fostering, — see with what strides 
We are borne on towards happiness to-day, 
By the same power we strive to pierce the unknown. 
And learn the bliss our children are to prove ; 
Till wishes come that we may thus look back. 
When past the Jordan of our final rest. 

A lovely guest, sweet Musa merits well 
Our best attention ; for she may, in wrath. 
Haunt the rude mind where she receives neglect. 
Yet, rightly cared for, she can banish fear ; 
Make hardships pleasures ; and her speech will oft 
Be treasured more than droppings of fine gold ; 
While he who honors her, when least he hopes. 
May find wealth greater than the world will know, — 
Wealth free from taxes and heart-eating cares. 



12 POETRY OE OBSEEYATION. 

By her alone, slmt in from pleasant fields 
And all the high and bye ways among men, 
One finds his happiness in prison-bars ; 
Discerning, thence, the path of Progress up 
To the far-shining city of the saints ; 
A way of weariness, with perils oft. 
Yet safe and easy when the Pilgrim strives — 
Faithful for aye — towards the free gate of peace. 

And who but she attended where that mind, — 
Up through boughs gazing on far twinkling spheres, - 
Struck by the falling apple, saw a spark 
Enkindle with an ever-spreading light. 
And set forth all the scroll of starry rhymes ! 

And who beside gives thought its glass to see 
Worlds like our own, in those wide-wheeling orbs, 
With dwellers of like image ; but whom, now, 
Ages of struggling have so far advanced. 
That each dull planet like a diamond shines. 
Bright with the splendor of perfected souls ! 

And whence the promise else, that, like them, we. 
On our green earth, may thus increase in good. 
In beauty, and in brightness ; till this, too. 



PAKT SECOND. 13 

Is recognized a star to cheer the night, — 
A hope to rouse one's manliness with power ! 

Ah ! who to honor Musa will refuse ? 
By her alone Columbus long was cheered ; 
With her the Pilgrims from Delft-haven sail ; 
Fitch learns from her his unborn offspring's worth ; 
Whitney through her gives clothing to the poor ; 
Morse wins by her the lightning for our slave ; 
By her Ericsson bears us further on ; 
And none yet knows the worth reserved himself. 

Our eyes go wandering from earth to heaven ; 
But, if the soul be wakeful, it will oft. 
Stumbling o'er truths untold, strike out some flash 
The brightest sun of day cannot obscure ; 
And, as with flint and steel, in common life, 
The artisan, attentive at his toil. 
May bring forth fires of new delight for man ; 
To spread a golden halo round his name. 
And show the pleasures and the use of toil 
Are not so far divided as may seem. 

Yet life is not all use. The mind must play^ 
The spirit's vision is joy's minister, 



14 POETKY OE OBSERVATION. 

And well the pictures of our dreams are drawn. 
The tangible of scenes is not their all ; 
And we may feel what yet we cannot see. 
The buoyant spirit seeks congenial themes. 
Too constant weighing of the worth of things 
Oppresses, clogs, and stupefies the soul ; 
Till life seems more a burden to be borne, 
Than ^ true pleasure long to be desired. 
False thoughts of dignity bid youth begone 
At sight of manhood ; and so gladness flies. 

Let us, then, still susceptible to smiles, 
Come sport awhile upon the hills of mirth, 
Above the shades of care ; with humor gay 
Enlivening existence here on earth ; 
And winning, by the sparkling flow of wit, 
New keenness and activity to thought. 
Diversions, true, are safer when subdued ; 
For, with too free indulgence, likewise they 
Inebriate the soul, and soothe to sleep. 
The deeper stream of converse is as pure. 
And may refresh as well ; yet who, when lone. 
Thirsting for pleasantry, if Holmes awhile. 
Or " Quixote," or " My Uncle Toby," come. 
Thanks not the skill that shaped them living joys; 



PAKT SECOND. 15 

Or mourns, if there, to gentle Goldsmith's lute. 
His heart go dancing with delightful love ? 

Intenser pleasures thrill the social ring, 
Where Tennyson with delicacy comes; 
And polished elegance revives again 
With Bryant's lucid, smooth, deep-flowing song ; 
And when sublimer impulse ye would nurse, 
Spirits no less congenial abound. 
Yet still our prime persuasion will return. 
That forth with nature best emotions rise. 
The gentle rose, the dove, the timid fawn, 
May rouse reflection while they cheer the heart. 
And where the lark, on lofty wing, ascends. 
Against the deepening blushes of the morn. 
Who could not lighter to his labor go. 
And be a poet for himself all day ? 
He who hath gladly roamed through forests vast, 
'Mid rocks and caves uncertain, dark, and huge ; 
Or by the mighty cataract hath stood. 
Submissive and alone, — in youth or age, — 
Hath been exalted : he was not alone ; 
Nor earth, to him, of poetry all void. 

List to the distant sounding of the sea ! 



16 POETKT OF OBSERVATION. 

Doth ne'er its wakened music thither charm, 

Until we sport amid its mist and roar, 

Watching the foamy surf, renewing still. 

As great, swelled waves come rolling from afar ? 

Or, with drawn breath, stand rapt; where, with a 

shock. 
Boldly assaulting the abutting bound. 
Up to Jfche sky again loud billows dash : 
While outer breakers leap round sunken rocks. 
Playfully terrible, in wildest glee ? 
Who shall dare say there is no spirit here. 
Dealing direct with every gentle soul ! 
And who can listen where the surging air 
Breaks on the impeding mountain-ridge, aloud ; 
Roaring through rocky gorges, and, like wrath, 
Swaying the heads of venerable pines. 
That for long cycles have adorned their place, — 
Who hears unmoved this anthem of the winds, 

'v 

On the soul-shaking organ of old earth, 
And heeds no lesson there of trust and love ! 
Let us attend, and, child-like, strive to learn 
Heaven's all-pervading and eternal Good. 

Look on that ignorant yet lovely slave. 
Pensive in marble. Can ye gaze unmoved ? 



PAET SECOND. 17 

By those four marcliing bards, their wreaths yet green, 

Stand ye unconscious of the realm of shades 1 

Or can ye witness the poetic scene, 

And come as uninstructed as ye went 1 

Ye then, indeed, may not soon learn to read 

The pages of earth's grandeur ; may still pass, 

Cringing with fear, before the unshapen wild ; 

Without one swell of joy above the herd; 

Nor recognize the power ye cannot see. 

But was man ever yet so deeply wrapt 
In the thick meshes of benumbing trade. 
Or so bewildered by the blaze of gold, 
And homage paid it by expectant self, 
As ne'er to feel a brother's earnestness. 
Whether in accents uttered or in stone ? 
Nor know the exalting influence of Heaven 
Heaves his expanding breast ; as unawares 
He finds, at day-dawn, in the deep, moist chasm, 
Cloud- veiled Niagara with him alone 1 

Appalling nature fills the soul at once, 
And images of beauty fiash delight : 
But how this form before us holds our gaze ! 
Why strive we thus to learn Who 1 What ? or Why 1 

2 



18 POETKT OP OBSERVATIOlir. 

Ah ! now reflection leads us to perceive 
A fair similitude within the show ; 
And lo ! the multiplying beauty lives. 

We gaze upon the lovely of our kind, 
And cry, ' Divine ! ' Yet soon that flushed form fails. 
What was there so divine 1 Is not it still 
Abiding with us, like fond memories 
Of days when joyfulness absorbed all self? 
Did delicacy make that angel face 1 
Mere blending hues, mild eyes, and lines of grace 1 
Then show of love can make the happy home, 
And seeming plenty give true comfort there. 
It is the SOUL the limner would make live ; 
The soxTL, outlooking through his lines and shades. 
With all the figure, in responsive grace, 
Affirming what the lip and eye would say. 
Mere sound, in music or in song, ne'er stops. 
Breathless with ecstasy, the passer-by : 
Soul speaks to soul, or heart leaps forth to heart. 
Else vain your learned and toilsome skill of art. 

Is it mere novelty that leads the maid, 
So rapt and eagerly, from page to page ; 
Where those like her, in love, through many a woe. 



PART SECOND. 19 

" Endure and conquer," and still seek the true 1 
She finds the example of that better life 
All fain would learn ; as youth learns heroism, 
And aye has learned, since Homer sang of Troy. 

Would any scorn the artist or the art 
So strong to draw our better natures forth, 
And win us to adore and emulate 
All virtue, living worth, and nobleness ; 
Richly delighting, and, in harmless cups. 
Dissolving pearls of wisdom and of grace ? 
Are they not, rather, angels who thus live, 
Leading the ages ever on and on ; 
Inspiring hope that we, too, struggling still. 
At last may reach their haven of repose ? 

And yet how few perceive this key to power ; 
Or, seeing, use as nature would incite ! 
Genius glides easily from feeling down ; 
But up to those far, secret springs few climb. 
Experience and fruits are but an aid : 
In vain the man West would surpass the child. 
Forsaken once the hand that led him forth. 

But fair exhibiting hath limits known. 



20 POETET OE OBSEKYATION. 

Pure kindly seeming, in our daily life, 

May help a brother's goodliness to grow ; 

Still, though the form be trustfully received, 

Man seeks the substance, not the show of good. 

How just our scorn, what injury to all. 

When forth-put friendship, through its gloss, declares 

Falsehood, self-torturing, plots mischief still ! 

Has ne'er the partner of a painted face. 

Once undeceived, endured a hell of hate 1 

And where the native * rose and lily ' smile, 

May none have anguish for the wanting mind 1 

truth and virtue ! — though but poor and plain, 

Disgraced, in fetters, — ye are lovely still ! 

Lo ! in the height of mirthfulness, half-heard. 
Some hint mysterious of danger nigh 
Beyond the reach of threatening appals ! 
Thus is the power of spikit more than form. 
The grief that gladly would itself conceal 
Stirreth our bosoms more than showers of tears : 
Worth is more prized when rather found than shown ; 
And vaunted morals merit all they gain. 
Great things and small the self-same truth display. 

On the wide prairie, in a cot of logs, 



PART SECOND. 21 

■With peace and sweet contentment, labor thrives. 
No splendor there, save what affection gives, 
Outraying from each heart on all things round. 
The dwellers toil and hope, endure and smile, 
And see their home grow fairer day by day ; 
Their conscious happiness unsoiled by care. 

In the thronged city (famed for wealth and lore, 
And all that proud magnificence of show 
Whose train attendant penury still swells), 
High, gilded halls, with mirrors flashing wide. 
With costly hangings, and adornments rare. 
Full oft are haunts of envy ; and their shine 
A mask of misery, that hardens all. — 
Losing the pearl of joy, wealth strives in vain 
To hide its want with ostentatious glare. 

The city seems the pith of joyous life ; 
The country its rough rind : yet often oaks 
At heart are worthless, when the bark is sound ; 
And, if once girdled, all the tree must die. 

Why now this restlessness, — this central rush 1 
God is not all ,a mind, that we should place 
The highest and sublimest reach of life — 



22 POETRY OP OBSERYATION. 

Our human life — upon the icy peaks 
Of intellect ; acutest, subtlest wit. 
The dearest feature of our twofold state 
Is that we have a heart : o'er life's expanse, 
The grateful summits of the grander hills 
Afford as ample scope ; and while we strive, 
With every help, to gain more lofty plains. 
Shall we not also nurse the throbbing love 
That gives to heaven its attribute of joy ?- 

Oh, how the free, bland fields do seem to cry 
To the dispassioned lovers of all good, — 
Come forth from those high walls of stone and brick, 
And let your lives enlarge in God's free air ! 
The soul grows lean, the heart cannot expand, 
And life is warped and narrowed and curtailed. 
In those close alleys of eternal shade. 
Come where great nature dwells with love and power. 
Out 'neath our gladdening, bright sun and stars; 
Where ye may gaze on pictures ever new, 
And listen to free lectures full of truth ; 
Or sing with birds, or with pure brooks converse ; 
While fancy, loosed, expatiates at will ! 

And who can wonder man becomes mere self. 



PART SECOND. 23 

Thus pent for ever those hard walls between ; 

Lost in unending estimates of gain ! 

How can that self gaze forth on human life, 

And see how far the common weal 'transcends 

Its little fate, and wish but for the good 1 

How can he feel the meaning when he says, — 

" Our Father ; " and then adds, " Thy kingdom 

come" 1 
Knows he the great, the universal Good, — 
God of the multitude, — to whom he prays 1 
Or deems he that His " wiIiL," though trampled oif 
And scouted long, must none the less " be done " 1^ 
Oh, let him look to free his better self; 
And for a share of joy, so free for all, 
Come to the country, and enlarge his life ! 

Freedom was born upon the rugged hills ; 
The Alps, the Tyrol ; where it ne'er shall cease. 
Child of the Will, whose mate is Good Intent ; 
Whose motto, every hour, in every deed. 
Is, Conquer, conquer ; yield not though ye die ! 
Whose strength is rooted in reliant love ; — 
Say, can it ever cease, save where distrust 
Creeps weakening in upon the heels of sin ? 
And yet so seemeth ; for, till earth be purged, 



24 POETEY OF OBSERVATIOlSr. 

Her subtle foes will quickly seize their chance 
To leap upon the necks of those once bowed, — 
Whether for worship, or by grief or love, — 
If e'er her sentinels be found asleep. 

Greece leaves the watch, and so division comes ; 
And Philip and the Turk ; and worse than death. 
The captives from great Babylon return, 
Wary and resolute ; but hold they thus ? 
'Tis when in Latium landing, or, more near. 
In Plymouth woods, the few are each a host ; 
Not when their needed singleness hath ceased. 
Firm in his dignity and worth, each man 
Maintains and rules his "minor world," himself; 
A stronger unit of the strengthened mass : 
But oft, in crowds, the many choose to lean ; 
Give up their care, in hope of greater ease; 
Then, lo ! the leader, in whom wills are merged. 
The careless soon grow slothful and abject, 
And then the master or the ruler rules. 

But if ye may not leave your weekly moil. 
To wander in the woods, or by the stream, 
Or through the quiet valley ; sharing still 
The silent vastness of the midnight plain 



PAET SECOND. 25 

And milder morning ; where the door-yard axe 

Rings mid soft cooing of afar-heard grouse, — 

Come on the day when labor is released ; 

And on this hill-side — that o'erlooks the town 

And its white subnrb-cottages — give ear 

To the clear, mingling melody of bells, 

Near and afar ; now faintly heard, now loud, 

Calling the worshippers. 'Mid flocks, 'mid flowers, 

'Mid spreading harvests, here we may admire 

The greatness and the goodness of our God ; 

Who loveth more a cheerful, earnest love. 

Than learning, costly pomp, or rites exact. 

If some yet wrangle o'er the shell of truth, 

Here calmly we their strivings may survey, 

And seek the spirit, free of one restraint. 

And oh ! to Heaven what gratitude is due, 
That wisdom's truth so freely may be sought ! 
That in one clime is virtually found 
The poor man's God — the Ruler of the Mass ! 
What other cause had this delightful scene. 
Than that the Good of All here reigned supreme ? 
Did ever land its moiety display ? 
With every laborer his pleasant home ; 
His pretty cottage ; flowers about its door, 



26 POETHY OF OBSERYATION. 

And cheerful comfort plenteous within ; 
"Where woman reigns, an angel, not a slave ; 
Where life, adorned and regulated, flows 
So like the measured harmony of song ; 
Most unlike his who toils and eats and sleeps, 
Content if thus the " monarch of a shed." 

No grand cathedral here may thrust its dome 
Up even among the clouds, as if it fain 
Would brave the face of Heaven to be heard ; 
Art may not be suborned by magic poWer 
To fill the soul with vastness, or to bind 
The unthinking heart to dogmas and to forms : 
Yet in these lowly temples, hearts, no less. 
Swing their sweet incense heavenward, and win 
The spirit. Love, to tabernacle there ; 
Where, in the stead of splendor, may be found — 
So gentle and so pure — Instruction's voice ; 
And, in the place of grandeur, high resolve ; 
Only surpassed by the sublimer life ; 
While every bounteous board, in every cot. 
An altar is, of gratitude for all. 

Would one, with taunts, repeat, These have their 
price. 



PAET SECOND. 



27 



' Eternal vigilance,' — lie soon might hear, 
Shaking the heavens, as the winds the woods, 
God help us and our children this to heed ! 
For well the dwellers prize their boon ; aware, 
If no dull unconcern may here abid'e. 
Neither is here the one vast lord's estate, 
With meagre huts and abject peasants round ; 
A splendid palace 'mid a people's woe ; 
And ruthless armies rushing to and fro. 

It is this consciousness of lasting weal 
Gives the true nobleness, heroic love. 
And self-devotion to all truth and good, 
Here found so common — as a thing of course ; 
That makes a people eagerly, as one. 
Watch o'er the growth of Liberty abroad. 
In the forefather lands, whence they or theirs 
Fled from the face of Tyranny and Want, — 
Bids them exult at every last emeute, 
(Faint-flashing promise of the coming day,) 
And moves to hail the chieftain who could brave 
The tyrant, till he trembled on his throne, 
Yea, madly hail, with shouts of joyousness; 
Inscribing Kossuth near our own dear name; 



28 POETRY OF OBSERVATION. 

And pouring of their plenty here, in aid 

Of the great work he loves, and will not leave. 

The same high value for the common good 

Prompts many wi^e to scorn the subtle foe 

Who (by ancestral charm, as Freedom's friend. 

Receiving honors coveted so long) 

Crushed out the spirit, intellect, and worth 

That gave him where he sits — a heavy hand 

For the late banished finger, deemed severe — 

Soiling the brightness of the name he bears. 

'Tis this that moves to execrate the power, 

Veiled in the robes of sanctity, and hailed 

As the long-waited-for Deliverer, 

In that old home of Freedom and of Art : 

Yet hailed in vain. And how, save by the same, 

Comes a free people earnestly to mourn 

O'er foulness on their common honor fixed, 

By the contrasting ill of human bonds, 

^ / 
And woe that will not always cry in vain 1 

Ah ! but sad visions crowd upon us here ! 
Yet shall we pain our country for no good 1 
Oft hath she seen ill turn upon itself, 
And well hath learned (urge blindly as we will), , 



PAKT SECOND. 29 

The wrongs of man are still God's ways of right. 
Forth from dark Egypt she hath seen escape 
A light, with hope of self-perfection bright ; 
Hath seen the race it prompted scattered wide, 
Abjured and taunted, and ofttimes abhorred ; 
And yet its final beams diffusing joy. 
She knows that light of wisdom, warm with love, 
Will never cease, till all the earth be filled ; 
That, when with her it may no more increase, 
(The chain she grasps for ever dragging down,) 
Its influence, returned, will nothing lack. 

God grant that, early from her load released, 
AmericaV proud eagle may still on ; 
Soaring unsullied through time's far unknown ! 

'But let us hearken to the words of him. 
So mild amid his throng of listeners ; 
Where, with dispassioned reason and with might, 
A people come their sovereignty to show. 
Perchance he gives an aspect of the mass 
That wisdom would not urge us to neglect. 
Come, join the multitude ; let us attend. 

We say the state should be the perfect man 



30 POETKY OF OBSEEVATION'. 

Of perfect men ; all self-dependent men : 

We cheer the striving personal of those 

Who know the truth, and honor what they know : 

We scatter freely, these free homes among, 

These nurseries of morals and of mind : 

We glory in the honoring of toil, 

And self-ennobling toilers, here displayed ; 

This measuring of men by merit known ; 

This taking of the Right its turn at Might ; 

This giving trust and dignity to those 

Who else had borne the burden without praise : — 

Yet can we heap the wrong, so gladly shunned, 

On weaker ones, and still be noble men ? 

We love our country, both its lands and laws : 
Yet love of country may be love of self. 
Ought selfish love, or love of truth, prevail 1 
The man's advantage, or mankind's advance 1 
Each self is ample for his own domain ; 
And gain is not gain, at another's cost. 
Let us, as units, but restrain the wrong ; 
And not as banded selves these limits pass. 

A spirit, long o'er deserts roaming wild, 
Struggles through art-wed Europe, and escapes. 



PART SECOND. 31 

Softened by suffering, to these rude shores ; 
Where, nursed, it soon becomes so seemly strong. 
But shall its fiery progress here be stayed ; 
Take no fresh impulse back to work its way 
And round again, still gathering the best ? 
Ah brothers ! look ye that it lose not here ; 
Conjoined with art, with wisdom, and with love. 

Our feeble vision, as we' glance abroad. 
Becomes bewildered by the expanding view ; 
In light that glimmers like another dawn ; 
Awakening the world to better life, 
Where nobler aims assimilate mankind. 

We see the gold-rage, with our surplus power, 
— Opening tracks of day in realms of gloom — 
Diffuse glad influence through many a vale ; 
And kindle, on the distant shore, a blaze 
That lights far islands in the night-veiled sea. 

• We see the flowery nation's wall of will 
Admit some gleaners of their good for us ; 
While swarms, thence issuing, receive unseen 
Our seeds of truth, for better fruit elsewhere. 



32 POETRY OE OBSERVATION. 

Siberia's bear-herd, roused amid his night, 
O'er the child Freedom seems to spread his hordes ; 
Rejoicing thus his foe to suffocate. 
But his harsh ' destiny ' becomes illumed, 
And Astracan still stings his bulky force ; 
"While Moslems own and venerate the day 
E-eturning, slow, to Athens and the Nile. 

The busy bee-hive of that ' anchored isle,' 
Whose penal code, for its own ease, has reared 
New realms of intellect's intenser life. 
Now finds them drafts upon the many hands 
Grieved and oppressed — 'mid luxuries they make. 
But seldom share — in that still 'merry land.' 

The burning clime where — wild, luxuriant. 
And full of mirth — life leaves its proper care. 
Sees trading foes come shameless now no more ; 
But, in their stead, the native mind, subdued 
(And thus to Heaven exalted), comes with power 
To raise the fatherland, and fill with joy 
Far more delightful than the wildest mirth ; 
And thus attract its wanderers from far. 

And if we turn our vision whither yet 



PART SECOND. 33 

Streams from Oppression''s fountains come, we see 
The world's observant eyes on these free homes 
Concentrate more and more ; persuading all, — 
Save the few trembling sinners fain to scorn, — 
That as we prosper their own weal must be. 

And shall we grieve them ? Shall they not in u& 
See the same smiling image of their hope, 
Irradiant with light, still spreading wide 1 
Or shall this excellence our fathers gained 
Wane, till our children sink in deeper woe. 
And Freedom from her later refuge flies ? 
My country, answer : let your will be seen. 

But lo ! behold it, as already shown ! 
Behold it in the voice, o'er seas returned, 
To Greece, to Poland, and to Hungary ! 
Behold it in intelligence diffused ! 
Behold it in the love s\e bears her sires ! 
Behold it in the reverence for good 
Her thousand thousand altar-spires up-flame ! — 
Columbia will be to her honor true ! 
On the broad base of wisdom, virtue, truth. 
The pillar of her worth is founded sure. 



34 POETRY OP OBSERVATION. 

Yet who can safely lean on fondest hopes. 
Or sit supinely by the good attained ? 
Let not my countrymen withhold their might. 
Nor stay to look admiring on the past. 
The future is with labor to be wrought ; 
The way is open : have we not the will 1 
The gale behind us, and the lee in sight. 
Onward the gallant ship must hie, or — sink. 

What, then, is duty 1 Let us each inquire ; 
For vain is looking only to the state. 
What is my sacrifice, or what my task 1 
Some like life-ruler, chosen in each breast. 
May save the state, the country, and the world ; 
And make mankind a glory to behold. 
Already, lo ! the brightness from it sprung ! 
So many toilers native noblemen ; 
So common wishes for the weal of all ; 
So many regions where that weal is law ; 
So spread the love of amity and peace ; 
So known the power of gentleness and love ; 
So many Howards, Dixes, Burritts, Spears. ^ 

Time was the sun of kindness never looked 
Down the damp cells of crime ; where poor, sick minds 



PAKT SECOND. 35 

Were galled by greater wrong, and firmly set 
"Whither mistutoring had first inclined. 
Time was the gibbet in the piazza swung ; 
When hasty words were answered with a blow ; 
When wrath was nursed, entailed from sire to son ; 
When curs could battle in the street, and men 
Look on with zest. But he who now declares, — 
" Let slip the dogs of war ! " hears, — Be humane ! 
While brother nations, hasting, quell the strife. 
Behold the military pageant now ! 
Its " pomp and circumstance " have lost their charm ; 
And times will be when. gentleness prevails ; 
When all magnificence of gay parade 
Must honor Goodness and the arts of Peace ; 
When many live not for a few ; when all 
Pind each his joy is in the joy of all. 

And would ye hasten this delightsome day ? 
In your own being's nature deeply look. 
Observe how smiling gives the spirit ease ; 
How peacefulness retains the bloom of youth ; 
And how things lovely loving hearts increase. 
Witness the power of taste o'er minds infirm. 
Where high, 'mid flowers and shrubbery and walks. 
Like some grand palace, stands their common home. 



36 POETKY OP OBSERYATION. 

Ask of the world's adorner and chief hope. — 
Beauty, the atmosphere of gentleness, 
Is woman's breath of life. Where beauty reigns. 
There she, a lovely soul-plant, blooms and thrives, 
Graceful among the graces : pluck her thence, 
To struggle on the bleak sea-strand of care. 
The grace and sweetness of the flower are gone ; 
The essential oil of joy, with which her lord 
Was wont to be anointed, is no more. 

Lo ! then, the secret of your better life ! 
Set flowers about your door ; along your ways 
Plant graceful trees ; and, in your homes and thoughts, 
Multiply pictures and all pleasing forms. 
Think less of seizing ; of enjoying more. 
Set not at variance your work and will. 
But make delightful what would else compel ; 
Woo gentle birds amid your scenes of toil ; 
See how their blithe tones cheer them ; sing your- 
self. 
Rejoicing ever at sweet morn's return. 
And ne'er forgetting beauty is for all. 
Watch, while content with labor of the hands. 
Lest in worse indolence the spirit sink. 
Note how the flowers in loveliness come forth : 



PAKT SECOND. 37 

Live like the rose, shed fragrance every hour ; 
Be like the lily graceful ; delicate 
As the long-lived petunia, so meek ; 
Seek for the humble violet ; inspect 
The purple pansy, velvety and rich ; 
Study the graces of all simplest things ; 
Cherish the Beauteous, the Bad conceal : — 
And it may be, that, gazing on the good, 
Ye shall be good, be happy, and be strong ; 
For every duty able ; for no wrong. 

Would not the world be lovely living so T 
And would not life be poetry to see ? 
Ah ! but methinks I hear, The poor lack bread. 
What ! have the squirrels plenty, and ye want ! 
Or have ye long for others toiled in vain 1 
Or doth some fear disturb scenes yet afar. 
Shaping your life by arbitrary — Mode 1 
Or is it vanity that makes ye crave 1 
Yea, this most mischievous, that slips unseen 
From breast to breast, it hath a power of woe. 
But need ye nurse it 1 Seek the generous fields ; 
Be manly ; plant your flowers ; and good will 

come ; 
Even the Beign oe Good, for which we pray. 



38 POETBY OP OBSERVATION. 

— Such, then, the reasoning in Freedom's home. 
And such the basis of confiding hope. 
There is a portrait of this happy time, 
That much admiring ought its coming haste ; 
For love and learning there in peace combine ; 
The excellence of wisdom shared by all. 
And youth ne'er flying from the crown of years. 
Man dignified and graceful as the ash, 
Woman, the hawthorn, blooms beside him there ; 
And in their shade sweet buds of promise grow. 
Cheerful activity pervades the scene ; 
And all, in duty seeking pleasure still. 
Seem well assured mere breathing is not life. 
They love alike the genial, the gay. 
And reason's cool, deliberative thought ; 
Alike the magic of adorning art 
And rugged nature's never-ceasing change ; 
Alike the sweet refreshing time of May, 
And mild October's winds and withered leaves ; 
Alike the burying of trustful seed, 
"When lads and lasses troop through morning dews, 
And gathering the half-husked, bristling ears. 
And ponderous pumpkins, to the filling barn, 
When pensive wisdom points to life's decline : — 
But in all seasons, even 'mid " harvest-home," 



PART SECOND. 39 

They chiefly seek the soul's refining joys, 
And value plenty for the spirit's growth. 

Thus all, perceiving, every boon enjoy. 
And love their labor, since they know its worth. 
All humbly walking, all to kindness lean ; 
All pleased by others, all would others please. 
And while thus all, impelled by like desire, 
So strive in adding to the common weal, 
Each, his own burden bearing, cheers his next. 
And leaves the wish that might another grieve j 
And, still — receiving for his good its praise, 
Self-ruled and proving what he knows of worth — 
Forgets himself, and wears a constant smile. 

Oh, charming is to view the limner, Hope, 
Draw his fair pictures of the promised age ! 
But ofti on their reverse, far other scenes. 
In startling contrast, show the times that are. 
Clutching the heels of the more buoyant there, • 
Envy believes to rise if they come down ; 
There, with dull edge, Luck-learning spends its force ; 
There Knowledge turns against its parent Good ; 
There Youth courts Folly, and cuts short his days ; 
Age there still hoards the dust he soon shall be ; 



40 POETEY OF OBSEEVATION. 

And many, like in error, pain the sight. 
But let us leave them turned against the wall ; 
Since well we know the tree of life ne'er springs 
Up from the earth to heaven all- at once. 
The bands of slothful nature seldom break, 
Without strong effort of the struggling soul. 
The shell of ignorance is hard o'er him 
Who thinks him only fit for drudging toil ; 
And, save by help of Goodness, who that soul 
Could rouse to cast its bondage of the worm 1 
He neither sees nor cares to see the day, 
Nor wants his children more than he to know ; 
But leaves entailed his wretchedness or crime, — 
Leaves wingless spirits, doomed through life to 
creep. 

Thanks to New England and the Pilgrims, then. 
That I to-day may sit and sing and soar; 
Repaying thus the wise, paternal care 
That gave my spirit birth ; — that, while my hands 
Pursue their daily task, my thoughts, thus free. 
May lead the listener in pleasant paths. 
That still to virtue and to peace incline. 
Thanks to New England sires, that I have come 
To love and prize the Univeesal Good, 



PART SECOND. 41 

And spend what feeble powers to me may fall 
Still for the lowly and the weal of all. 

So now I bid my song, as fields with flowers, 
Go sow the minds of men with grateful thoughts. 
That many fold may spring to cheer the world ; 
To help increase the lovely, till each heart 
Is wedded to the Beauteous, with love 
That .will not see offended nor offend. 
In action, word, or thought ; till every soul 
Is ruler o'er itself, and rules by laws 
Whose rooted principle strikes deep in truth. 
And spreads its graceful branches all through life ; 
Where living fruits hang lovely to behold. 

Go, then, and fear not ; humbly work your way ; 
The friends of virtue will be yours for aye. 



42 



THE FOUNT OF UNFAITHFULNESS. 



Theee was a poet, who, though still a youth, 

His pure ideas pictured with delight ; 
And readers, feeling, would enjoy their truth; 

— Ah ! what would I, like that poor boy to write ! — 
Yet now, alas ! ne'er watered by a tear. 

The laurel withered on his grave we find : 
Something had been, contenting him to steer 

Straight for oblivion his deathless mind. 

I mused. A maid with countenance divine. 

Her manners pure and lovely as the morn, 
With life as gentle as that poet's line. 

Grew up, as if earth's rudeness to adorn. 
But, some few seasons passed, that heavenly face. 

Tossed high, flashed glances and wore smiles of 
pride ; 
Her measured mien had lost its soul of grace. 

And none would doubt her being: earth-allied. 



THE FOrNT OF UNFAITHFULNESS. 43 

She passed, and one succeeded whose pure mind 

Was all devotion to the rising world ; 
In what she might, she would advance her kind, 

And Freedom's banner largely leave unfurled. 
But, oh, the contrast ! Languid she became ; 

Those growing youths in wisdom grew no more. 
Nor clung around her, nor her honored name 

Enwreathed in flowers, to crown her, as of yore. 



A limner followed her. True love of Art, 

In youth, appeared his laurels to entwine ; 
His works would leap to the beholder's heart, 

For hues of nature lived in every line. 
But moons must wane. He soon could speak of 
schools ; 

His manner, void, grew cold and overwrought ; 
Yet, for my dulness, he displayed the rules. 

And stated largely his designing thought. 



Next came a preacher, seeming Heaven's own, 
Who dared to speak the truth, and spake it well : 

He prayed the Good of All might soon be known ; 
And all, to learn, came where his accents fell. 



44 THE rOUNT OF UNEAITHEULNESS. 

Could he, too, fail ? Unaltered was his mien ; 

The people praised his prettiness of speech, 
And weekly flocking to him still were seen ; 

But, as they said, they came to hear him preach. 



As I beheld these changes in my dream, 

Sorqething like reason led me soon to say : 
' Surely there flows near by some poisoning stream. 

Else all this goodness would not so decay. 
When early harvests prove the grain unsound. 

We soon detect the weevil or the fly ; 
The pulpy fruit maturing in the ground, 

Its leaf-lungs withered, may decaying die. 



' Thus every hurtful hath its varied harm ; 

Yet all these evils seem from one same source.' — 
Intent I mused ; for much my zeal was warm. 

Up to its rise to trace that ill stream's course. 
I saw the world before me full of men, 

All not unconscious of the pains they bore. 
Yet seeking happiness ; that near is when 

Eaph strives, with zeal, to increase the common 
store. 



THE FOTJNT OF UNFAITHFULNESS. 45 

But, somehow, many not at all perceived 

How their own welfare was reflected thence ; 
And, while they saw not, very few believed : 

They thought their safest hope was pounds and 
pence. ^ 
Hence all were struggling, each one for his own ; 

At which I grieved, because I deemed them blind. 
But some unseen one, with a soothing tone. 

Appeared to say: ' Let each obey his mind ! 



' Their unseen Ruler, whom they term their Good, 

Ordained it so, that, in their daily life. 
Each might, of choice, contribute what he could, 

By his own skill, to beautify their life. 
And hence, behold ! whoe'er in this excels. 

Through mind or matter, him his fellows praise ; 
And, if he thus one human ill dispels, 

A standard benefactor him they raise. 



' This homage all, admiring, strive to gain, 
For divers purposes, by divers means ; 

With zeal, with knowledge, each essays amain 
To near some narrowed aim, that nothing screens. 



46 THE rOUNT OF IJNEAITHFI7LNESS. 

And all are tending thus to their Above, 
The home of Excellence, abode of Good ; 

A heaven full of beauty, truth, and love, — 
Tending as though they never were withstood.* 



More closely viewing, more intent I mused, 

And soon perceived what I before had not : 
The thirst for praise so much the taste abused, 

That zest for excellence was oft forgot. 
And all thus harmed would with its search dispense, 

(For late reward, though lasting, who could stay !) 
And strive for honor, merit's consequence, 

That, like much manna, can but last its day. 



Thus, for a substance, one pursues the shade, 

Forth reaching still to prove it nothing is ; 
Till, for the long and painful search he made, 

"We meet, at every turn, his rueful phiz. 
Yet, so mankind enjoy all beauteous truth. 

So love to praise by whomsoe'er it comes. 
Themselves, for hope, will sometimes give to youth 

The soothing cup that genius oft benumbs. 



THE rOUNT OF UNFAlTHrULNESS. 47 

Believing thus, I hasted to exclaim : — 

' Lo ! here the secret lies of worth's decay ! 
'Twas this that robbed the poet of his fame ! 

'Tis this all truth to falsehood will betray ! 
The love of praise, in hope of present ease, 

'Tis this poor emptiness persuades the soul, 
Stooping its noble powers, to lightly please, 

And leave its longing for perfection's goal.' 



But, while I reasoned, lo ! a form appeared, 

With pleasing manners and incessant smile ; 
A seeming friend, to greatness he adhered. 

And lulled all doubts with glozing words the while. 
Some simple ones his notice strove to gain, 

And many more, pretending to distrust. 
In secret favored him ; but this was plain, — 

The wise all turned from him in sheer disgust. 



His name was Flattery; and where he could, 
By his fair speech, with pride he would inflate : 

The gifted wise, the beautiful, the good, 

For these, his highest marks, he lay in wait. 



48 THE FOUNT OF UNFAITHFULNESS. 

A traitor-foe to Excellence was lie, 
A slimy serpent, slipping in unseen ; 

But whom he struck envenomed, one might see, 
Foul to the shoulder with empurpled green. 



Few bitten thus were conscious of a wound. 

And some e'en loved the intoxicating fire ; 
As shameless wantons tread with scorn the ground, 

So self-deemed heroes now to thrones aspire. 
While modest Merit strives, enwrapt in gloom. 

Dishonor foul stalks forth in form upright ; 
And sometimes Worth will sickening airs assume. 

And even Charity wait stronger light. 



As thus these traitorous effects I viewed, 

There, at the fount whence virtue's martyrdom. 
With pearls of thought my vision was bedewed. 

When, lo ! a voice came visible therefrom. 
' Behold ! ' it said, ' your adversary's aid, 

Behind whom Envy skulks, and works secure ! 
Oft will he charm an unsuspecting maid, 

And oft a genius from his labor lure. 



THE FOUNT OF UNFAITHFULNESS. 49 

* In league witli him is one, — full oft unseen, — 

Among old Romans known as Vanitas, 
Daughter of Folly, that most wanton quean ; 

And from the pair another comes, alas ! 
Termed Arrogantia ; with blind Self-love 

Producing a whole progeny of ills. 
That keep both priest and poet from above : 

So much of good this arch-deceiver kills. 



' But there is one. Humility, a youth 

Who fain would love a maiden, did he dare ; 
(He knows not he is loved of her, chaste Truth, 

Who sees him watch and wait her everywhere.) 
Contentment is a sister of the swain, 

And Labor aids him with unwearied love. 
Repaid by love, and thinks the service gain : 

And thus, 'mid cheerful smiles, he gets above. 



* Ye who would add of beauty to the earth. 

Let your works praise you ; theirs is worthy praise 

Be patient, and evince the love of worth, 
In works not only, but in all your ways. 

4 



50 THE FOUNT OP UNEAITHFTJLNESS. 

The relish keen for truth, wherever found, 
This, as the measure of your merit, use ; 

Lean not on human praise, the staff unsound, 
Nor take from clowns the sole aim to amuse. 

* Whoe'er for selfishness the like pretend, 

Advise themselves a hard and thorny way : 
A restless life, where troubles never end, 

"With weary sighing, for their pains have they. 
But fair the land where Flattery is not; 

Where all adore the Beautiful, the Good ; 
Where each esteems his brother's happy lot, 

And none himself more highly than he should.' 



51 



DREAM OF AN OPERATIVE. 



The rapidity -with which neat cottage-homes are continiiing to mtiltiply 
in the various manufacturing villages of New England, and along the many 
lines of railway that radiate from the chief mart of her trade, is an uneqtii- 
vocal evidence of the peculiar prosperity and intelligence of the mass of 
mechanics and laborers under American laws. Among this mass, however, 
there is one class of hand-workers, who — partly on account of their own 
indiscretion, and partly because of a consequent oppression that unprincipled 
employers are enabled to make heavy upon them — have little or no part in 
this general happiness. With an eye to this latter class (with whom the 
writer has had occasion for strong sympathy) the following poem was written 
some years ago, and is now first shown to others. 



On a pleasant day in hay-time, 
Having wandered from the town, 

Out where fields were green and fertile, 
On a hill I sate me down. 

A deep woody vale before me. 
On its farther bound were seen 

Waving harvests, white and yellow ; 
Haymen in the meadows green. 



52 DKEAM OF AN OPEEATIVE. 

Much I love a quiet landscape, 

Singing birds and fragrant flowers ; 

But the scenes I left behind me 
Haunted still those pleasant hours. 

Overcome with toil and thinking, 

Soon I fell into a dream. 
Hearing still, amid life's bustle, 

Words like these, as it would seem : 

' Strong-armed laborer, and able, 
Why thus idly sit ye here ? 

Toil brings comfort ; up ! be doing ! 
Labor makes the earth less drear.' 

' Where is labor ? Long I've sought it ; 

But it waits for me no more. 
Since I, with a laborer's fervor. 

Dared expose our burden sore.' 

' Toiling widow, worn and weeping. 

Say why thus your spirit flags 1 
Bread why scanty 1 pallet meagre ? 
- Children shivering in rags 1 ' 



DKEAM OF AN OPEKATIVE. 53 

' Ah, sir ! once the seamstress' labor 

Might some little good procure ; 
Now, that fact'ries may sell cheaper. 

She must want and woe endure.' 

Then I called aloud on Heaven : 

' Can that Good such evils give ? 
Freedom mocked ; the while her daughters 

Wear their lives away — to live 1 ' 

And a voice came sternly saying : 

' Gold is then your burden still ! 
Good is God with you no longer ! 

Let the cup of misery fill ! ' 

Then a vision passed before me, — 

Banded wealth's unfeeling crew ; 
Toiling throngs of men and women 

Wealth increasing for the few. 

And there came for weekly wages. 

Pale and feeble, one who said : 
* Is that all 1 wife ! children ! ' -— 

To the gamester's board he sped. 



54 DEEAM OF AN OPERATIVE. 

And another o'er his pittance 
Muttered words of discontent ; 

But, that night, to drown his trouble, 
At the dram-shop half was spent. 

And I saw one (nursed by luxury. 
But by treason robbed of all) 

Wandering friendless, without shelter. 
Soon his brains besmeared the wall. 

Others, in their affluence rolling, 
Were by passion racked and stung ; 

Some the crowd's illusion plotting, 
Ere, for guilt exposed, they hung. 

These, their children living idle, 
Drunken, riotous, and worse. 

Scorning the submissive worker, — 
Oft they felt the poor man's curse. 

And I heard some tired mechanics, 
Toiling late for daily bread, 

In their close apartment singing ; 
And they sang not as the dead : 



DREAM OF AN OPERATIYE. 55 

* Trample on, ye proud oppressors, 

Serving well your idol, Pelf ! 
Make us feel our base condition ; 
Grind us into earth, itself ; — 

' Us, whose hands have wrought your splendor ; 

Us, who spring at every call ; 
Us, whose labor gives you luxury ; 

Us, to whom ye owe your all. 

* By the might of wealth and knowledge, 

Stultify the struggling mind ; 
Keep him down, the poor day-laborer ; 
Make the beast embrace his kind. 

' Yes ! degrade poor human nature ; 

Dance above us while ye may. 
Brothers ; but behold the dawning ! 

'Tis the toiler's glorious day ! 

* By thy problem, old mechanic, 

Freedom now the fulcrum known, 
Knowledge is the mighty lever . 

We will have ; and then — our own.' 



56 DEEAM OF AN OPERATIVE. 

Then the voice again came, saying : 
' Thus have men destroyed their peace ; 

Deeper yet will be their misery, 
Ere the reign of gold shall cease. 

' But it will cease ; and another, 
A far brighter, shall have sway : 

*As events all have succession, 
This for that prepares the way ! ' 

Then another vision opened, 

. Bright and lovely to behold : 
Earth was like one blooming garden, 
Strewed its walks with gems and gold. 

Here all men were blithely toiling, 
As their choice appeared to be ; 

For by thought their toil was lightened, 
And, as wisdom, truth was free. 

And their song the same was ever : 
* War and wealth have had their day ; 

Peace and love now rule together, 
Pride and pomp are cast away.' 



DKEAM OF AN OPEEATIVE. 57 

Then I woke. My brother laborers, 

Every wrong must have its fill ; 
Such appears the good time coming ; 

" Wait a little longer " still. 



58 



A SONG OF LABOR. 



And is it vile 
To plant or plough. ? 

Behold the smile, 
And smoother brow, 
Of him whose thought 
In deed is wrought ! 

He surely thrives 
Who careful strives ; 
And earth grows fair 
Around him there : 
For Good has said, 
Toil shall be paid 
By beauteous fields, 
By bounteous yields ; 
By peace and health. 
Contentment, wealth ; 
By cheerfulness, 
And friends to bless. 



A SONG OP LABOE. 59 

From simplest things 
Toil pleasure brings, 
And Love grows large 
At Labor's charge. 

But he who says, 

' I will not work ! ' 
'Neath all his days 

"What sorrows lurk ! 
The restless mind. 

The ceaseless gloom, 
A heart unkind, — 

These tell his doom : 
To live 'mid joy, 

Yet tasting none ; 
Self to annoy, 

And every one. 



60 



DREAMS WHILE AT WORK. 



White from the sea cloud-mists arise, 
And inland spread, 'neath midnight skies ; 
A humid veil, condensing still. 
O'er meadow, forest, lake, and hill. 
Drops on the roof soon sparsely fall. 
And patter, patter, large and small ; 
Increasing frequence, as I lie 
And listen to the sports they ply ; 
Until no more in sport they seem. 
But to descend in many a stream. 
And hard o'erhead, with threatening roar, 
As in another deluge pour. 

Fresh breezes with the morn revive, 
And westward slow tKe cloud-hosts drive. 
Rejoicing birds each other wake. 
As the new day begins to break ; 



DKEAMS WHILE AT WORK. 61 

And lo ! with deep-flounced robes of green, 
Bright June is in her grandeur seen. 
Now many a shadow far extends, 
Shortening still, as day ascends ; 
And men to life and labor rise, 
Drinking delight with all their eyes ; 
And — striving each, with taste and skill, 
To add new grace and beauty still — 
Through the long day their toil pursue. 
With hope thus cheering ever new. 

But shadows of the day, reversed. 
Soon lengthen counter to their first ; 
And, forth from toil again, we taste 
Wherewith dame nature earth has graced. 
Where twilight leaves the far blue hills, 
Refreshing coolness joy distils. 
Wood, field, and flower get one in hue, 
And star-eyes peep heaven's azure through. 

And here our thoughts with fancy run, 
Asking where goes the faithful sun ; 
Or what fair scenes he paints afar ; 
Till truths come up, our dreams to mar ; 



62 DREAMS WHILE AT WORK. 

Of man in deserts vast and wild, 

Nude, gloomy, stern, — mere nature's child ; 

Lone isles, where rites inhuman reign ; 

Or thronging lands of reason vain; 

Or once-high nations in decay ; 

Or howling wilds, where Eden lay ; 

Or many fiefs of many kings, 

^here frequent still war's tocsin rings ; 

Or burning zones whence careless glee 

Is dragged, to serve the wiser free ; — 

Until it seems men oft forget 

The wish to make earth fairer yet ; 

Or till our saddened spirit yearns 

For its own land, as day returns. 

But why should grief oppress the soul ? 
The planets in their order roll ; 
The circling seasons never fail ; 
And shall not love o'er hate prevail ? 
Mankind, whichever way we look. 
Show but a page of one same book. 
Eastward the glow at morn's return, 
The western clouds at evening burn ; 
But shall we find, or there or here, 
A brighter or a better sphere ? 



DKEAMS WHILE AT WOKK. 63 

Each has its good, and either ill ; 
Though each its own rate better still ; 
As tourists learn to value more 
The home they nigh contemned before. 

Borne by the current of events, 
A people shape their good intents ; 
But who by force can others bend 
To his own tastes, and thus amend ? 
A tropic sun breeds lords and slaves ; 
The north wind nerves a race of braves ; 
But shall the child of winter cry, — 
Stand off ! Thou art less pure than I ! 
And, with reproaches, mark for crime 
His brother of the softer clime 1 
Seal him a disregarding foe, 
And bid the world behold 1 Ah no ! 
Ah no ! not such the course to win 
A soul to see and leave its sin ; 
Not such the force whereby to see 
The toiler, the enjoyer — free. 
Can good come forth of Nazareth 1 
The arrogating scoffer saith. 
But shall we doubt a sunny clime 
That sends the orange and the lime ; 



64 DREAMS WHILE AT WORK. 

A gorgeous land in fruit and flower, 

And singing birds in lofty bower ; 

The land of Marion and Lee, 

Clay, Marshall, Jackson — yet may see 

Heirs of that glory once our boast. 

Rearward of old Virginia's host, 

To grace the good our fathers gained, 

-Diffusing freedom thus attained ? 

Flashed not at once the signal fire 

From Otis and from Henry's ire ? 

Did not one day see glory's thrill 

Quincy and Monticello chill ? 

And — would we with sweet chords dispense 

Came not our nation's father thence 1 

Oh, let us leave these tauntings vile ! 
And if our brother sin, the while. 
When thus all sooner draw towards heaven, 
Call it an error — blunder even, 
And show him how his course to mend ; 
But never forceful strive to bend ; 
For limpid lake and stagnant pool 
Show man the worth of generous rule. 



65 



WAYSIDE INSTRUCTION. 



One Sabbath-day even, ere day was yet done, 
With Helen, adown by the stream, 

I was plucking what flowers we met, one by one. 
When she suddenly broke on our dream : 



* Ah, see ! who is that with a wild, horrid stare, 
As of one whom all goodness would shun ? 

Methought with clenched hands he was beating the air, 
But, perceiving us, now he has done.' 



I knew him — the Atheist. Helen and I 
Stept aside while he passed on his way ; 

And there — broken by many a deep-heaving sigh 
To himself we these words heard him say : 

5 



66 WAYSIDE INSTEI7CTI0N. 

' What sad fate hangs o'er me 1 The heavens are 
black ; 
As unyielding, as deaf, as the stone : 
With sneers the crowds pass me; my friends cry, 
Alack! 
Among all I am living alone. 



' Night visions oppress me ; I wake in affright, 
And all trembling, with stiff, horrent hair : 

By day, fears begirt me ; I long for the night, 
While I stand like a shape of despair. 



' Has vengeance, long slumbering, waked for my 
doom 1 

From its throne must my Reason be hurled 1 
Is Justice against me ? must life be my tomb 1 

I a mark for this pest-house, the world 1 



' Why, why was I sporting quite over the brink 
Where destruction was yawning before 1 

Alas ! from the depths of the pit I must drink ! 
Come on, fiends : ye can torture no more ! ' 



WAYSIDE INSTKITCTION. 67 

Thus he passed out of hearing ; and then I exclaimed : 

' my Helen, how wretched the man 
Who has never his own rebel selfishness tamed ; 

Who is warring with Heaven's wise plan ! 



' With no one to love him, with no one to love ; 

Nursing pride while he quakes o'er despair, 
He spurns all submission, and scoflfs at the dove. 

Till remorse drags him home to her lair. 



' Oh may we, as we toil up the mountain of life. 

Clutching firm every help that is sure. 
May we cling to the standard, — Love conquees in 

STKIFE, 

And all Goodness, like tritth, must endxtee.' 



68 



STANZAS 



ON" THE DEATH OP THE EEV. EDWARD W. CHAMPLIN, 



Who died at Naperville, 111., Jan. 1845. He was a native of Saybrook, Conn. ; 
N a graduate of Tale College ; and aged tMrty-four years. 



The gathering flock all trembling stand, 
With frequent plaintive cry : 

Fear they some danger near at hand, 
With no protector by 1 

Alas ! no more their shepherd's voice 
Will cheer them, morn or eve ; 

For the fair pastures of his choice 
The Lord has bade him leave. 

' Ah ! 'tis a heavy stroke,' they sigh, 
' Deprived thus of our guide ! 

Abandoned are we, O Most High, 
Astray to wander wide ! 



STANZAS. 69 

' But we will cease complaining fears ; 

The Master knows our need : 
He who can dry the widow's tears, 

Our griefs, our wants will heed. 

' " I am your Pastor ; ye my sheep," 

Once to his loved he said : 
With eyes fixed on his heavenly keep, 

We shall be safely led.' 

O Saviour ! heed the listening ear ; 

By thy soft notes of love. 
Draw them, while thus they wait, more near 

Their sheltering ward above. 

There may they view their nobler state ; 

There feel the solace given, 
That he who guided but so late. 

Now heralds them in heaven. 



70 



ELEGIAC STANZAS 

ON THE DEATH OP AN AMIABLE "WOMAN "WHO DIED AT HINGHAM, 

April 26, 1853. 



Anothek gentle presence is witlidrawn ; 

Another beaming face we cannot j&nd : 
Smiles from her heart came glowing like the morn, 

And all her ways were delicately kind. 

We miss her in the hall and in the street, 

In the still chamber where distress is known : 

On peaceful sabbaths, when for prayer we meet, 
"We know assuredly that smile has flown. 

But who shall speak the vacancy that reigns, 
Like a vast silence, in the rayless home 

Where late she was the sun 1 — who the pains 
Of that fond heart v/hose cup seems now all foam 1 



ELEGIAC STANZAS. 71 

Alas ! — Yet O thou chief, all-ruling Good ! 

Thou dost not leave one here to dwell alone : 
Bowed by the stroke that may not be withstood, 

We trust thy kindness, and are made thine own. 



72 



AMERICA TO KOSSUTH AND HIS COMRADES, 



A SALUTATORY ODE. 



Published in tlie Boston Atlas, September, 1851. 



Hail ! hail to the Chief and his Heroes of Freedom, 

Proscribed by the tyrant, and flown from their 
homes ; 
To the country of Washington flown for a refuge ; 

While, sad from their own, dearest Liberty roams ! 
Hail ! hail to the Hunn who disturbs the oppressor, 

Demanding, like Moses, his people's relief ! 
Unprospered as yet ; from the vengeful escaping, 

We welcome him here, in the day of his grief. 

Yes, noblest of Magyars ! though spoiled of your 
glory, 

Though bloody the ban that usurpers impose, 
Here, here ye may rest, where the right is in honor. 

And harmless the stigma from Liberty's foes. 



WELCOME TO KOSSUTH. 73 

We greet you with triumplis, disconsolate brothers, 
And show to the world we still honor the brave — 

Whatever their fortune — who yield their own welfare, 
From Poland's sad fate a brave people to save. 

The despot now triumphs, though but for a season ; 

Your Hungary lies in her fetters full low ; 
But Truth has its germs in the hearts of her people : 

The Spring-time of Liberty cometh but slow. 
Yet still it approacheth, as day follows darkness. 

When spoilers their " destiny" may not delay : — 
Full many things, honored in earlier stages. 

The world in its manhood still putteth away. 



74 



FAREWELL 



July, 1852. 



Farewell to the Hero whom lately in joy 

We welcomed as Liberty's chief; 
Farewell to the Hunn whom no pleasures decoy ; 

Farewell to the Magyar in grief ! 
The cause of his country is dear to his heart ; 

So dear that he never can rest, — 
And her people not free : — let him honor his part ; 

May his mission by Heaven be blest ! 

Yes ! if duty still calls him, with hopes ever high. 

That his Hungary yet will be free, , 
And if God is his confidence, back let him fly ; 

God speed him and strengthen, say we. 
Yea, marshal the Magyars again in their fields. 

Those fields where they happy may dwell ; 
Forth ! forth ! urge the battle till Tyranny yields ! 

Farewell, noble Kossuth, farewell ! 



FAREWELL. 75 

But remember, where most is a blessing enjoyed, 

Most arduous toil has attained ; 
And if we boast of rights that shall ne'er be destroyed, 

They by long, patient struggling were gained. 
Remember, and faint not, while hope has a ray ; 

Good ne'er will the seeker deny ; 
But oh, on the dawn of that glorious day, 

Let none his own sacrifice fly ! 
I 



76 



A THANKSGIVING HYMN. 



Paeent of Goodness, from whom comes 
Each blessing of our hearts and homes ! 
Again we meet, our thanks to pay, 
On this, our annual festal day. 

Another year, by favor spared. 
Seed-time and harvest we have shared ; 
Our garners are with plenty filled, 
And every fear of famine stilled. 

While some are torn with civil strife, 
Struggling for the first rights of life, 
This people still their boon enjoy. 
And quell the pride that might destroy. 

We thank Thee that our fathers here. 
Through sufiering, through perils drear. 
Established and maintained, by Thee, 
A home of manhood, just and free. 



A THANKSGIVING HYMN. 77 

We thank Thee that the Good of All 
Reigns where Thy richest bounties fall ; 
That many come its fruits to share, 
And bless those first few pilgrims' care. ' 



Long may we this their day observe, 
And never from their virtues swerve 
May every gift Thy grace imparts 
Receive thanksgiving of our hearts. 



Assured of our peculiar good, 
That using shbweth gratitude, 
May better life our purpose be. 
In spirit, as in person, free. 

May the glad " Wine of Love " be poured 
Round every reeking, bounteous board ; 
And thus, indeed, our thanks arise, 
"Like grateful incense, to the skies." 

Then truly may Columbia's worth 
Increase and spread and fill the earth ; 
Till every land, exempt from fear. 
With one Thanksgiving fills the year. 



78 



THE VALE OF YEARS. 



stanzas suggested by the death of my neighbor, Mr. Joshua Hersey ; who died, 
full of blessings as of years, March 17, 1853, aged eighty-seven. 



How pleasant is to view the good old man, 
With wisdom hoary, and in toil-won health, 

Eking the remnant of life's lengthened span. 
Amidst the comforts of his youth's own wealth ! 

Round him — '■ glad patriarch — as round a goal, 
l^ven third and fourth expansions of his tribe 

To manly stature rise, both heart and soul. 
Less closely still his joy to circumscribe. 

Well pleased to know himself the type of all. 
Where all thus worthy of his love's long care. 

He timely words of warning oft l-ets fall, 
At ease calm seated in his ingle-chair. 



THE VALE OE YEAES. 79 

And oft at random lie the past will range, 
Pointing his listener where joys are flown; 

But no remorseful thought, his path to change, 
There, like a serpent, lurks for him alone. 

Sweet peace doth all his cheerful thought pervade, 
Refreshed by seasons of attempered gloom ; 

Peace like our friend's ; whom yesterday we laid — 
As he his elders — in the still, dark tomb. 

Meek in retirement, and in toil serene. 

That friend most faithfully had served his day ; 

Then, long a link two centuries between, 

Passed, like a shadow, slow from earth away. 

We feel the purer substance yet our own ; 

We know his virtue still in spirit lives ; 
But ah ! we mourn the presence we have known : — 

That vacant corner now no counsel gives. 

No long experience, pure heart, clear head. 
And faithful helper, all in one, are ours ; 

No loved one lingers, leaning towards the dead. 
And for relief tasks all our willing powers. 



80 THE VALE OF TEAES. 

Yet why for sorrow sent with mercy grieve ? 

To die is gain where ease nought else can give : 
A crazy tenement who would not leave 1 

Even greatest patience would " not alway live." 

Let selfish grief in high resolve be stayed, 
Our own past reels from off our future still ; 

Heed we the weft ! — its mingling light and shade 
We long may view, even though not with a will. 

Our peace and pleasure, our unrest and pain, 
Are shaped for ever as we shape the days : 

Ours is the work, as ours the loss or gain : — 
Comes there no profit heeding well our ways 1 

Shall we through life rush blind as battle-steeds ; 

Or calmly, kindly, walk with heavenward face 1 
Self-shamed go troublous ? or, by noble deeds, 

For our poor nature winning every grace ? 

The finished course of our promoted friend 
Leaves no bold marks along the vale of years : 

But, should we linger near our journey's end. 
May we, like him, be nought in sad arrears ! 



81 



SIMPLICITY, 



LESSON" OF LIFE. 



Sometimes, — when overborne by care. 

Or gloomy fears come fast, 
Like windy clouds o'er skies else fair, 

With rage that soon is past, — 
Yea frequent, in our sombre mood, 

A little, playful child, 
(So full of mirth, she seemeth rude, 

Where all save thought was mild,) 
Sudden and cheerful as the sun. 

Breaks in annoyingly, 
Half vexing us, till we are won 

To share her childish glee : 
And then, when she has flown again. 

Our sadness, lo ! is not ; 
But smiles are seen where frowns had been ; 

Our fancied ills forgot. 



82 SIMPLICITY. 

That heart's abounding cheerfulness 

Has seemed to chide our fears ; 
And, grateful, we the chiding bless ; 

While, from our height of years, 
Calm thought surveys the sheltered vale, 

So genial, so fair, 
Where we, as happy and as hale. 

Had once as little care. 
We see what very trifles gave 

Intensest joy, though brief; 
And, when sometimes came sorrow's wave, 

How transient Avas each grief: 
And then we say, — Our prizes now 

But other trifles are ; 
And weep, that for a clouded brow 

We childhood left so far. 

Yet may we not be children still 

At heart, though men in mind ? 
This pride, that makes our joy so chill, 

To goodness oft makes blind. 
But childlike love and trustfulness. 

How clear they leave the sight ! 
With such, though darkest fears oppress, 

We still may find some light : 



SIMPLICITY. 83 

Yea, riclily favored shall we be ; 

Since He who blessed them bade, — 
" Let little children come to me ; " 

And will not be gainsaid : 
While all whom hopes of glory please 

Have this true counsel given, — 
" Except ye be as one of these, 

Ye cannot enter heaven ! " 

Then let us little children be, 

Howevef large of mind ; 
Since pride, that colors half we see, 

To merit makes us blind ; 
Since He who would all nations bless, 

In mighty meekness came, 
Showing we must, for happiness. 

Wild will to service tame ; 
Since, whether early good or long 

Is made our goal of life, 
Humility and love are strong 

To help lis in the strife ; 
And since, if we as children be. 

Nor think that self is all. 
This pride, that nurseth vanity. 

Will never — let us fall. 



84 



LITTLE JOHNNY'S SONG OF GLADNESS, 

ON THE KECOVERT OF HIS TWO CHICKENS, A DAY OLD, "WHICH 
HAD BEEN GIVEN UP AS LOST. 



The brooding had heen set m an upper room of the house, whence these 
little objects of solicitude fell down upon the sill, between the casing and the 
plastering; so that they could only be reached by perforating the wall. 



Aha ! the wee, sae tender cMckies ! 

A'maist the total o' your brood ! 
Gladly we frae dark prison take yes, 

Down where ye fell by hap sae rude. 

We gied ye gane ; for lang an' vainly — 
Hearing thae frighted, mournfu' cry — 

To save ye, starving there sae lanely, 
A' known inventions did we try. 



johnny's song of gladness. 85 

But — may sic favor e'er attend ye ! — 
When Willie, at his work sae still, 

By fainter cheeps half deemed he kenn'd ye, 
We strove anew, wi' rite guidwill. 

Sae here we hae ye nu, wi' gladness, 

Mair fondly still to tent an' feed ; 
And — ance mair free o' sic a sadness — 

For pitfa's ye'll gie tentie heed. 

An' though o' late sae nigh conceding, 
Sae promiseless — left e'en to die — 

Ye may frae caskheads yet be feeding, 
Baith prized and priceless tap Shanghai. 

But ah ! 'mang thase o' better portion, 
Wha Heaven's image plainly bear, 

Mony deep fa' en in dark misfortune 
Hae nane sae kindly thus to care. 

Untentie, young, the gleefu' spirit. 

Stumbling wi' haste, finds aft its harm ; 

But few be they in haste wad rear it. 
And few hae zeal its grief to calm. 



86 johnny's song of gladness. 

Then weel the favor may rejoice yes ! — 
But where's the bardie e'er i^ay sing 

His thrill o' joy, a frien' whase choice is, 
Wi' luve's ain care, frae woe to bring. 



87 



AWAKENING YOUTH. 



This, then, is living ! Hetty, you and I 

Are scarcely heeding how the moments fly ; 

Yet on we go : each life, a little rill, 

Hastes through its flowery banks, time's stream to fill. 

So let us live, that every joy, once known. 
May float like flowers on that rill's bosom thrown, 
Borne with us on ; a pleasure still to view. 
For ever fragrant, as for ever new. 



88 



THE BROKEN PITCHER, 



A NEW SONG, WITH AN OLD BURDEN. 



One winter's eve, the girls and boys 
Assembling for our rustic joys, 
An altercation soon befell 
Atween two beaux about a belle. 
'Twas a small matter, sure, at first ; 
But into flames it quickly burst. 
Because of one's unguarded ire 
Quick as gun-cotton taking fire. 

How it had ended I know not ; 
But Arthur was upon the spot, — 
Who always strove to still debate, 
Where words would but engender hate 
(Outweighing sense of hurt by half,) — 
He stifled anger with a laugh. 



THE BROKEN PITCHER. 89 

Said he : ' How strange that, all through life, 
Some are continual in strife ; 
Never to rest in peace content, 
But still impetuous to resent 
Each fancied grievance, — harmless thrust 
They will rebut, because — they must. 
Apropos is a tale that shows 
How spite enkindling anger blows : 
A tale my grandsire often told ; 
Presaging it was very old. 
And of a pair whose cabin stood 
Just by the entrance to the wood. 
The man was known as Mac, the ditcher : 
His wife, Meg, had a china Pitcher, 
That she, as laundress, earned herself. 
And kept to adorn her chimney- shelf. 
It happ'd one morn while streams were froze. 
As Mac, ere day-dawn, left repose 
To light his fire, he slightly hit 
This porcelain, and fractured it. 
Meg felt within her soul the blow 
Marring her little god below ; 
Whisk out of bed, and one long stride, 
She gave't a crack on t'other side ; 



90 THE BROKEN PITCHEE. 

Whicli Mac no sooner saw than fun 

Bade him keep up the play begun, 

By giving a replying knock, 

Answered as prompt by Meg in smock : 

And thus they kept the sport agoing. 

Till Meg's full grief commenced o'erflowing. 

To see her pride in a thousand pieces 

Shattered — like love when caution ceases. 

During all this, no word was spoke ; — 

The pitcher, not the silence, broke ; — 

Yet every blow was language strong. 

Each thought the other doing wrong. . 

If Meg had kept her bed in quiet, 

(She would not now herself deny it,) 

The first harm well had been repaired, 

And all her after-sorrow spared. 

But each fell stroke made matters worse, 

(As ale-house words bring blows, of course,) 

Until the fragments on the floor 

Bade calmness bitterly deplore. — 

The moral of the old man's story 

Was, that Contention adds no glory. 

Said he : " Fools learn, when strife is ended, 

The least is said, the soonest mended." ' 



THE BKOKEN; PITCHEK. "91 

These jocund words turned wrath away ; 
Good-humor smothered the affray ; 
And; all unmarred our evening joys, 
We went home happy girls and boys. 



92 



SONG OF THE WAVES, 

TO THE LIGHT-HOUSE ON MINOT's LEDGE, 



Erected, in 1849, upon nine ■wrought-iron pillars, seventy feet high. 
Destroyed by a storm, in 1851, together with it^ two faithful keepers. 



Frail, high-uplifted light. 
That, like a joust's dumb knight, 

Our playful humor tilts ; 
Seen over us afar. 
Thou gleamest like a star, 

Upon thy trembling stilts. 

Yet when, from our far home, 
Enraged and capped with foam, 

With mighty roar we sweep, 
Thou seemest — as the sands — 
For our upheaving hands 

To sport along the deep. 



SONG OF THE WAVES. 93 

On thy fixed feet we fling, 

And — until back they spring — 

Those iron pedestals 
Quiver beneath our power, 
Warning the daring tower 

It sometime surely falls. 

Yea ! though fi.xed firmly deep 
Thou seemest, while we sleep, 

Some dawning will display 
Thy place a vacancy ; 
Where still, with seeming glee. 

We wildly dash the spray. 

And like sad fear might warn 
All on like arms upborne ; 

Whose fate akin may be : — 
So much need lofty parts 
A base deep set in hearts. 

Beneath the people-sea. 

That sea, too, hath its rage, 
And fearful war may wage, 

Booming among the props 



94 SONG OP THE WAVES. 

That hold aloft some name 
All dazzling-bright with fame, 
Till suddenly it drops. 

— Yet would we not affright ; 
For one that sheddeth light, 
Life's mariners to cheer, 
^ Though lofty placed and frail. 
The good will ne'er assail, 
Nor wish a fate severe. 



95 



STANZAS 

SENT TO MY BROTHER AND HIS LADY, UPON HEARING OP THEIR 
LOSS OP AN AMIABLE SON. 



Why do ye weep for the lovely though lost one 1 
Why for the dead are you ever in tears ? 

Think ye the sweets of life nothing will cost one 1 
Always do favors grow fairer with years ? 

Bright are the visions that smile to deceive us ; 

Hopes that are fairest how often they fail ! 
Objects we cherish may finally grieve us ; — 

When was a broken reed other than frail ? 

Think of our sister ! As pure as the morning, 
Ringlets of gold hung like leaves round a rose : 

Gave not her long-time affliction good warning, 
Buds of best promise may blossom in woes ? 



96 STANZAS. 

What if your Willie had ripened for anguish 1 
What if his mind had expanded in crime ? 

Would you not rather behold him thus languish — 
Playful and pure as a fount — in his prime 1 

Learn, then, to lean on the Arm that chastises ; 

Take of the bitterness followed by health ; 
Know 'tis the Good whose affliction surprises ; 

Wisdom that woos to submission is wealth. 

Trust in the True ; it is loss to refuse it : 
Good all around us descends like the rain ; 

Yet scarce a blessing comes just as we choose it : 
None, save a God, all his wishes may gain. 

Weep for your dearly loved first-born no longer ; 

Bless the good Giver, who takes without stain: 
Heed ye the living ; their claims are the stronger : 

Lovely the lost one will always remain. 



97 



MY SISTER. 



When cliildlike play my early fancy caught, 

And mother's lips deep-setting lessons taught, 

Which later years have proved with wisdom fraught ; 

When oft I sat upon that parent's knee, 

Who, dandling, shared with joy my childish glee, 

And fancied proof of genius smiled to see ; 

When brother dear, just learned erect to walk. 

Reeling and toppling round the room would stalk, 

And, in his lisping mode, essay to talk ; 

When toil was crowned by fortune's sunny smile. 

And fortune's friends would oft an hour beguile. 

And Reason sat enthroned with Love the while, — 

A smiling infant in our cradle lay. 

And promise gave, that, at some future day. 

She'd share my joys and in my gambols play. 

Time rolled along. I soon to boyhood grew. 
And brother close upon its confines drew, 
New joys, new hopes, still peering into view. 

7 



98 MY SISTEB,. 

Eacli winter evening, round our social fire, 

We heard the tales of our beloved sire, 

The while our matron plied her knitting wire. 

But soon afflictions, " bitter, deep, and keen," 

Though fain concealed, by filial love were seen 

To rend that father's heart, while soft his mien. 

And then that sister, dearest object known. 

With mild blue eyes, whence radiant sweetness shone. 

And glossy ringlets loose to zephyrs thrown, — 

That gentle sister, grown a school-girl young. 

Of mirthful spirit, and as joyous tongue. 

For her dread sufi'erings each heart's fibre wrung. 

Still Time pressed onward with his ruthless wheel ; 
Leaving, each turn, new sorrows at his heel. 
Till all were taught deep agony to feel. 
Each member sad of our once-happy flock. 
Widely dispersed like fragments of a rock, 
Had learned to suffer in that fatal shock ■; 
Yet often, by afl'ection's tender chain, - 
Each was brought back to fill his place again, 
And did for each affinity maintain. 
'Twas 'mid these last sad scenes, without one sigh. 
Beneath kind grandam's care and father's eye, 
That girl was doomed to languish and to die. 



MY SISTER. 99 

Scarce had she seen her fourteenth birth- day dawn, 
Ere from her woes, — long with meek patience 

borne, — 
" She fled like seraph on the wings of morn." 

And thus has faded every youthful dream : 

Still proves a wild what did an Eden seem, 

And every prospect fair doth with fresh evils teem. 



100 



WOMAN 



There is little worth living for here on this earth, 

If we share not the joys of a family hearth ; 

Nor can these e'er descend from their birth-place 

above, 
Except on the pinions of purified love. 

Oh ! how wretched is he, who, a stranger to love. 
Bears the soul of a kite in the breast of a dove ; 
Who, himself his whole object and pleasure and stay. 
In the pure and the loving sees only hi^ prey. 

O woman, sweet woman ! the smile of thine eye, 
When it ceases to shine on my path, let me die ; 
Let me cease when thy tender, affectionate zeal 
Has no union with mine in a union of weal. 



101 



EPITHALAMIUM. 



' Guide and ministress toward heaven, 
Helen, tliou to me wast given : 

Let us haste 
And embark upon the waves, 
Love's bright shallop safely braves, 

O'er life's waste.' 

— Thus, one moonlit evening, saying. 
Blushful Helen's beauty raying. 

With a kiss 
Long I pressed her for the day, 
Till she put my lips away, 

Naming this. 

*Tis a fairy sea of pleasure : 
With our oars to Lydian measure 
We will sail : 



102 EPITHALAMITJM. 

On our banner, lo, the dove ! 
Soft the flowery breath of love 
Is our gale. 

May we, ever gently speeding. 

On the prow keep wisdom, heeding ; 

While the helm — 
Guided by Truth's trusty arm — 
Points the way, devoid of harm, 

To the realm 

Where for ever loves are winging, 
Graces dancing, beauty singing ; 

Where alloy 
Enters not, its bane to give ; 
Where who learn in life to live 

Live in joy. 



103 



LAMENTATION OF PETRARCH. 



SONNET CCXXIX. 



Broke my high column and the laurel green 

That made a shadow for my weary mind ; 

Lost have I that which I've no hope to find, 
From south to north, or east and west between. 
My double treasure. Death, you've stolen clean ; 

Which to my glad life noble bearing joined ; 

Nor earth nor empire can restore in kind ; 
Nor eastern gems nor powers of golden sheen. — 

Yet resignation is for every chance. 
What can I do but go with soul so sad ; 

Eyes always moist, and downcast countenance 1 — 

O life ! in prospect beautifully glad. 

How do we lose, with some one morn's advance, 
What, after years of search, we thought we had ! 



104 



A GLIMPSE AT GRIEF. 



God ! Avhat agony surpasses mine ? — 

To see thus violate my household shrine ; 

To see the chosen partner of my joys. 

My faithful friend, the mother of my hoys, — 

To see her shorn of reason's high defenQe, 

The sport of winds, now driven hence, now thence; 

Her heart now hard, like rocks that skirt the main, 

Beat by its waves six thousand years in vain ; 

Now soft as wax, when, in the summer's sun, 

It seems just ready liquid-like to run; 

Now by strange fancies overcome with dread ; 

Now fixed and placid like a sea of lead ; 

Now like a fiend exultant, raving wild ; 

And now as gentle as the meekest child, 

Reminding me of days when, like a dove. 

Within my breast she made her nest of love. 



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